


Lucien's Notes

by Zanik_of_the_Dorgeshuun



Category: Runescape
Genre: Canon Compliant, Consensual, Diary/Journal, Fourth Age, Gen, Half-Human, POV First Person, Ritual of Rejuvenation, Zamorakians, headcanons ahoy, how are moias made, interspecies reproduction, methods of reproduction, moiamum is a badass, there are no lucien sex scenes don't worry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-16 11:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12341559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zanik_of_the_Dorgeshuun/pseuds/Zanik_of_the_Dorgeshuun
Summary: Before his attempted ascension to godhood, Lucien experimented with creating a half-human child. The result, Moia, was deemed a failure and treated as worthless by her father until his death.But what was his motivation? How did he come to have a child with a human? Why did he deem her a failure? And how did he go from that to attempting to become a god?That's what this fic attempts to explore. Canon-compliant, though headcanons abound, and I'm attempting to match the style of in-game lore books. It's gonna be a long ride.





	1. Chapter 1

## Day 2 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

I was surprised that Lamistard had enough life in him to sustain us. He always was a weakling, ever since he stumbled into existence. He had stayed alive so long by blending with the crowd during Rituals, keeping himself out of consideration for sacrifice. It is fitting that his cowardice was his end.

How had he been allowed to survive this long? Is this the calibre of mahjarrat we have come to sacrifice? By extension, is this the standard of Zamorakian mahjarrat in these times?

So few of us remain. Zemouregal and Hazeel maintain an acceptable level of power, enough that I consider them worth keeping on my side; I observe that Khazard has been mentored well enough not to be a total disgrace. But Wahisietel, the former Legatus, one you would expect to be more powerful than a simple Tribune? The man does nothing but talk: no action, no decisive moves, nothing of the sort. Bilrach is worse, not even asserting himself through voice; he just remains silent as his betters decide. And Ralvash! At the very least, he knows to make his face hidden in the crowd. I appreciate seeing less of it. Finally, while Kharshai does at least speak, it is only to voice timid approval of whichever faction is strongest. I doubt he is even Zamorakian beyond the confines of the Ritual; I recall him voicing support for the Zarosians in Rituals when they were the majority. Pitiful. He would not pick a side even if their symbol were branded on his chest.

And the others, those that still align themselves with Zaros. How far their empire has fallen! Once they ruled vast swathes of this planet, but for all his self-importance and bluster, Jhallan has grown so weak that he could scarcely rule a hamlet. And while Sliske could conquer if he wished, he eschews power in favour of his bizarre games. He takes nothing seriously: not other people, not his actions. Even his own form is a plaything to him; he shifts between forms with such ease that you would not know which was his form to begin with. With such little respect for who Mother Mah made him to be, I hesitate to even call him a mahjarrat. Detestable beings, both of them, and they characterise the imperial era well: pompous weakness and hideous decadence, a fitting epilogue to their empty empire.

Yet we are all that are left: a few fit enough to deserve survival, but others allowed to live long after their time. With none of us compatible for the Ritual of Enervation, this is all there will ever be. Our numbers will dwindle from this pathetic few until only one remains. I have long since been determined to be the last survivor, but in the wake of Lamistard's sacrifice, I have become dissatisfied with the current survivors being the last representatives of our race. What if the people of this planet came to know no mahjarrat except Kharshai, for instance? What legacy would that leave us? Instead of strong, forceful individuals, each one a monument in themselves, the enduring memory of our race would be of a fickle coward.

I cannot tolerate this. I will find another way.


	2. Chapter 2

## Day 6 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

In the space of decades, the population of humans in the nearby settlement has grown from a swarm to an infestation. So many of them are young: infants, children, youths. More are added to their number with each year.

Even in the days of the decaying empire, when my duties forced me to interact with lesser races, humans were of little interest to me. Yet there were things I came to know regardless. Many humans see mating as a recreational activity, doing so even and especially when unnecessary; I recall disciplining a soldier who had paid two humans to mate with him one night and, as such, missed the battle the next day. This was not an isolated incident. Such behaviour was rampant, making it little surprise that they multiplied in number so quickly.

Humans opt for quantity, rather than quality. The Mahjarrat favour the opposite: we fare best as fearsome individuals, not a flock of indistinguishable faces. Even so, with our number small enough to be counted on two hands, and with certain individuals no more fearsome than sheep, new blood is something we need.

I will be studying the people of this settlement. If the Ritual of Enervation is impossible, perhaps I can adapt human breeding for ourselves. With humanity, I could bring forth a new generation of Mahjarrat.


	3. Chapter 3

## Year 8, Day 156 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

It would seem I can no longer maintain my current position. The humans have become aware of my base and have launched multiple assaults. They are little trouble to fend off, but they are an unwelcome disturbance. I would prefer to work uninterrupted.

In addition, I have little reason to remain here any longer; I believe I have gathered all I need to know. The analysis I have performed on human bodies has been of great use, and I will need no more humans barring the one I choose as my mate. 

Of course, my mate cannot be one of them. None of the humans I observed possess even a shred of competence. They are pack animals, surviving only in groups and dying quickly on their own. But I have known rare humans with individuality, with the very beginnings of capability. Only a human of this calibre will even begin to be a worthy mate.

I know Hazeel has many humans among his followers. I have enough faith in him to know he will not settle for incompetence. Perhaps one of his humans will be worthy of me.


	4. Chapter 4

## Year 8, Day 161 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

Blind! All of them, blind!

They are mindless devotees, doing as humans do and swarming around a strong leader. Not one has any plan of their own; if they ever had, it has long since fallen beneath Hazeel's will.

Hazeel's efforts in building up this army are respectable, but this is not what I need.

I spoke with him briefly regarding my intentions with these humans, and his reaction was mixed. As mentor (and, I suspect, father) to the youngest of the Mahjarrat, I know he sees the value in fresh blood. But my decision to adapt human breeding disgusted him. He believes it to be a repulsive process, and he spoke with horror of seeing females carrying young inside their own bodies.

In truth, his disgust is shared. But I intend to involve myself with the process as little as possible, doing only what is necessary to bring new mahjarrat into the world. Shapeshifting enables me to take on either the male or the female role in human reproduction, and while I admit taking the female role would allow for easier monitoring of the child and less maintenance of the human mate, the thought of taking on human form for nearly a year and holding a child inside me is nearly enough to deter me from this project entirely. Fortunately, the male role requires far less engagement. Mere minutes of shapeshifting will suffice; afterwards, I can return to Mahjarrat form and monitor the child's progress.

I did begin to explain my reasoning to Hazeel, but he would have none of it; even a moment's engagement with the process is too much for him. Short-sighted fool. The Mahjarrat race with Hazeel as its last survivor would be doomed.

More interesting has been my encounter with Khazard. The youth has a force of will beyond his years, and a few of Hazeel's followers are flocking to him instead. Hazeel seems to welcome this, opining that Khazard should build up a force of his own. I wonder if Khazard may someday overthrow his mentor. If it were ever to happen, I would welcome it.

Khazard shows the potential of a new generation. He is the living proof that my plan must continue.


	5. Chapter 5

## Year 8, Day 163 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

I have found her, I know it!

It is rare in these days to find a human mage. They are embarassingly restricted to the use of runes for magic, and runes have only become scarcer through the centuries. Regardless, this woman used them to spectacular effect.

She struck in the middle of the night, yet did so with show instead of stealth; she burnt through the guardsmen with cataclysmic waves of fire. Dozens of Hazeel's humans woke from their slumber and turned to ash. 

As she stormed through the camp, we were coming to face her: the destruction she was causing had hardly gone unnoticed. Khazard had been closest and so had met her first; when I arrived, the two were in combat. To her credit and his shame, I am sure that the mage was the stronger of the pair.

Of course, as soon as I arrived, the fight was over. A spell blast disarmed her with ease, leaving her defenceless. But with Khazard determined to deal a finishing blow, I had to deal with him as well: a bind left the confused child standing in place.

I announced that the mage was to be freed. Khazard stared at me in abject disbelief; the mage was similar, though with thankfulness present as well. She made the most of her respite while she could, and the shimmering lights of a teleport spell carried her away.

Hazeel arrived then, and as soon as he was told of my decision he questioned it. Even if I did wish to use her, he argued, why did I not capture her?

I did not explain myself. I did not need to. The old fool does not see the necessity of my plan, so I will not waste further time in explaining it to him.

But I know that relative power is key to collaboration. If her involvement in my plan was presented as the only alternative to her death, it would barely be a choice. It would be akin to imprisonment, and with that would come reluctance and risk. She would seek escape in whichever form it might take. Perhaps she would come to see death as the better option. Regardless, monitoring her would become my constant occupation, and there are far better uses of my time.

No. Whenever I choose to work with a lesser being, I ensure they see it to be their choice as well. Often, they can be convinced that it will benefit them as well as myself; humans in particular are drawn to power, hoping they can glean some through proximity. If they believe my plan to be in their best interests as well as mine, they are working for their own benefit, and hence with all the more enthusiasm.

Soon, I will find her; a mage of such bombastic ability cannot be hard to find. I will make her my offer. In all likelihood, she will be convinced to accept, and then it will begin.


	6. Chapter 6

## Year 8, Day 178 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

Yesterday, I visited her. As I suspected, she was easy to find; she resides in a tower of black stone, standing far above the surrounding towns.

She is the fear of the entire region. Towns and cities pay tribute to her on a regular basis. No one can stand up to her. Not heroes, not armies, not the combined forces of three cities fighting back against her. Not one attempt to bring her down has been successful.

I asked her why she attacked Hazeel's encampment. In her own words, she was clearing out competition. Destroying any force that might threaten her supremacy. Nothing more.

It is so very rare to see a human who, instead of flocking to power, claims power for herself.

The name she has taken is Furia.

What a pity that a force like Furia was not born as a Mahjarrat. She is constrained to the limitations of a human form, with a short lifespan, vulnerable flesh, and a learnt propensity for magic rather than a native one. Yet Furia is coming to amass power that would be the envy of many mahjarrat. She could clash in combat with Khazard and not be defeated, and I dare say that she could best many of my weaker brethren. If she no longer had the restrictions of her human form, how much greater could her potential be?

This formed the bulk of my persuasion. What if she could have a child without these limitations? A human lifetime is mere decades, but through her child, her legacy could near eternity.

Furia considered my proposal. It almost seemed to amuse her. But she thought, and I thought she might agree. Then she told me to leave, saying she would think on it and give me her answer later.

I can be patient. Years of research have gone into this. Days or weeks to decide would be nothing.


	7. Chapter 7

## Year 9, Day 53 since Gielinor's 16th Ritual

It has taken her the best part of a year, but finally she has concluded that my plan is in her best interests.

She told me of the event that brought her to decision. There had been another assault on her fortress, which usually she would repel with ease. But the force of magic she cast had exhausted her. She had been successful, but had needed to rest for an extended period of time once she was done. It left her vulnerable.

Eternal youth is something she has striven for in the past, but she suspects she will grow old before reaching it. The solution I offer is far more immediate.

With my strength still unquestionably greater than hers, I tested her by asking if she wanted my protection; she saw the very notion as an insult. The idea of depending on others is abhorrent to her. Good. I would have no mate who reacted otherwise.

She is a rare specimen. Physically, she may not be ideal: she nears the end of childbearing age. But her power and force of will are unique among humans, and they are qualities that my child must inhabit. I have already selected qualities I will attempt to pass on: the child must be female, so that she may mate with other mahjarrat in time, and she must have my strength, my intelligence, my willpower.

With the contribution of both parents, I know my daughter will be feared for centuries to come.


End file.
